Screaming Mime Theater is an underground sleeper cell of wannabe artists, hack musicians, zero-budget filmmakers and often unemployed writers struggling to survive in the seedy underbelly of Sarasota, Florida. Like Troma Studios and John Water’s Dreamlanders, our objective is to create original and enjoyable content that succeeds even where our modest talents fail, to create a Universe populated by oddball characters, and to spread our half-baked gospel to anyone fed up enough with mainstream mediocrity to receive our unholy message. And one of the longest running legs of this modest little empire is our photography division, headed by me, your humble narrator.

My name is Chris, and not only am I a founding member of the mock-rock band Murdered by ROBOTS as well as cohost of the now seemingly defunct podcast Two Guys Watching Porn, but I’m also a self-taught photographer who aspires to create images that are both provocative and playfully edgy. I strive to constantly evolve as an artist (although using the word “artist” makes me uncomfortable), feeling free to experiment and unafraid of failing. While I don’t mind shooting traditional themes, I’m happiest working with models who share my somewhat offbeat sense of humor and don’t mind being silly or weird.

I’m a life-long admirer of pin-up style art. I grew up obsessed with images of Bettie Page and other underground models of her era, studying the work of Irving Klaw and Bunny Yeager, and flipping through pages of vintage men’s magazines with names like “TAB“, “SHOW“, and “EYE“, suggestive publications once deemed too lurid to be sold over the counter that now seem curiously innocent by modern standards. In many ways, it’s this inherently taboo aspect that makes these guilty pleasures so fascinating to me. And it’s that delicate dance between wholesomeness and, for lack of a better term, comic book style sleaze that I find most invigorating, imagining that beneath every housewife’s proper June Cleaver exterior is a garter-belt wearing, cat-o-nine-tails toting vixen ready to pounce.

I draw heavy inspiration from B-movie and grindhouse imagery, like scenes from an all night marathon of Russ Meyer films and drive-in double features. I try to create pictures that convey universal schoolboy day dreams and pay homage to the low brow pop stylings of artists like Robt Williams and Art Crumb, incredible talents who often elevated their medium yet still felt free to dip their toes in the gutter, combining elements of retro-style cheesecake with tongue-in-cheek, in-your-face vulgarity and doing so with style.

I’ve been extremely fortunate to work with many talented and imaginative models in the Sarasota area, some with professional credentials and others who were complete newcomers, and I’m eager to work with anyone out there who is interested in creating something different. Please feel free to peruse my portfolio, and don’t be afraid to contact me for any of your photographic needs at:

For years, the name Peckerhead has been spoken only in hushed tones by that handful of people who had actually laid eyes upon the creature and lived to tell the tale, a tale of a monstrous abomination, one half man, one half chicken, whose presence in the undeveloped backwoods of South Florida has long been the subject of campfire tales and fearful speculation. Most of these eyewitnesses have met with fierce opposition from their communities, been labeled kooks and, in some instances, downright liars. Many, faced with the almost certainty of public ridicule, have chosen to keep their silence. But we here at Murdered by ROBOTS are dedicated to uncovering the truth about this legendary boogeyman and, tonight, offer brand new and incontrovertible evidence – hard video proof – that Peckerhead is REAL!

The following is the second of only two known recordings ever made of the beast, captured on video earlier this month by local researchers as they were ambushed. Had it not been for the swift and heroic intervention of Internet star and fetish model Mandy Taylor, who appeared as if from out of nowhere to unleash her trademark brand of testicular demolition upon that feathery spawn of Satan, several scientist would have died. Instead, we are left with this chilling documentation:

Our heartfelt thanks goes out to the brave men and women who put their safety on the line in the name of science, and to the super sexy Mandy Taylor, who demonstrated total calm in the face of danger, and for her crotch-kicking ferocity.

In other Murdered by ROBOTS news, Two Guys Watching Porn delivers yet another new episode of mentally challenged verbal masturbation titled “Miley Cyrus and Rainbow Parties” in which hosts Rob and Chris discuss MTV’s recent Video Music Awards, wrestle with basic geometry, try to reclaim intellectual property and lament missing out on teenage sex parties… all building up to an exciting (or not) cliffhanger of an ending!

MILF – the acronym that launched a thousand porn sites. In the lexicon of linguistics, certain words and phrases have been used so often that their meaning has become diluted. Every time a famous athlete is described as a “hero”, or a barely funny text is met with the obligatory “ROFLMAO”, the very building blocks of language begin to disintegrate. With each hyperbole, our words are robbed of a little more meaning, rendered less sincere, leaving us lost in a world of platitudes. But, every now and then, certain turns of phrase truly hit their mark!

Meet Melissa Dawson (@MelissaDawsonDD to her loyal legions of Twitter fans). This modern day pin-up queen is to MILFdom what The Rolling Stones (circa ’69) were to Rock n’ Roll – THE REAL DEAL. In fact, were you to look up the word “Milf” in the dictionary, you shouldn’t be surprised to findthis picture of the awesome Ms. Dawson in thigh high fishnet stockings and six inch high heels staring back at you.

In my adventures as a photographer for the Screaming Mime Theater, I’ve had the privilege of lensing this extraordinary model on three separate occasions, and she never disappoints. She exudes hotness as effortlessly as the Sun, mischievously running with the most off the wall suggestions and turning them into digital gold. She and her husband Tim are the embodiment of joie de vivre and that spirit of adventure is openly on display in every photograph she graces.

Together this dynamic duo travels the country, from photo-shoot to photo-shoot, enjoying exotic cruises and appearing at Fetish Cons, living a life of excitement most of us can only dream of. Most recently, the two appeared on the nationally syndicated The Billy Madison Show in which Melissa was playfully spanked on air, fueling the fantasies of listeners everywhere! And, most importantly for us here at Murdered by ROBOTS, she was even cool enough to appear in our music video “The Works“…

We look forward to working with her again in the near future, and encourage everyone out their to join us as we live vicariously through all of her escapades by following her on Twitter at: @MelissaDawsonDD

Hot off the heels of our most recent Lumpytunes! appearance, Murdered by ROBOTS has released the music video, “Down to the Slaughter“, starring exotic model extraordinaire Vigilante Vixxxen and resident masked madman and Screaming Mime Theater mascot Oliver. And, in an attempt to sate any cryptobiologist’s hunger for high weirdness, making his first appearance on film is Peckerhead, that mysterious monstrosity long suspected of stalking South Florida’s uncharted wilderness and rumored to be half man and half chicken! Filmed on location and at Bradenton’s famed Junkyard Rehearsal Studio, and directed by underground filmmaker Jizz Fassbinder,this shocking video is proof positive that the Truth definitely IS “out there”!

Special thanks go out to Vigilante Vixxxen, for lending her considerable talents and beauty to our latest video venture, and to Seasons of the Wolf guitarist/producer Barry “Skully” Waddell for his immeasurable help.

Rising from our ashes like a smut spewing Phoenix, “Two Guys Watching Porn” returns to the cyber-airwaves with our first monkey-spanking new episode since expanding our podcasting empire to ITunes! Refreshed from a 49 day vacation, hapless hosts Chris and Rob kick off Season Three with “Princess Mandy and the Word We Can’t Say”. Listen as we insert foot firmly in mouth and share behind-the-scenes anecdotes from our latest photo-shoot with the insanely hot Mandy Taylor, @PrincessMandyT on Twitter and the inspiration behind Murdered by ROBOT’s song “Mandy, the Queen of Testicle Torture”. A splendid time is guaranteed for all and, of course, Henry the Horse dances the Waltz….

scha·den·freu·de: enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others. Shameful joy.

Perhaps it’s insecurity… Or deep seeded malice… Or, perhaps, I just curiously lack what some people define as a human “soul”. Whatever the reason, I love a train wreck! Not actual wrecks involving locomotives (though, I suppose, those are pretty cool too) but train wrecks in the sense of disgraced celebrities, those fallen stars unceremoniously knocked from their high and mighty perch who crash and burn in a blaze of drug and booze filled glory for the collective joy of bottom-feeders like me who live vicariously through their disgrace. Mel Gibson was awesome, but never so much so as the day he drunkenly called his arresting officer “sugar-tits” and railed against the Jews, or demanded his ex blow him while screaming into a cell phone (and while being recorded for the world to enjoy one psychotic tirade at a time!). And who can forget a frail and dazed Michael Jackson, being carried into a courtroom to answer allegations of child molestation, suddenly breaking into impromptu dance on the top of his limousine while dressed like some type of gay Cap’n Crunch? Celebrities, our modern-day gods of Mount Olympus, stumbling from their pedestal high atop the clouds only to be found masturbating in movie theaters or dipping their chocolate in the wrong person’s jar of peanut butter… These are the moments many of us live for! And nothing feeds my Schadenfreude disease more than the celebrity women who wind up in the gutter, whether it’s a 200 lb Anna Nicole crashing a 13 year old’s bar mitzvah and dirty dancing with the birthday boy, or a postpartum Britney Spears waving un-opened umbrellas at the paparazzi and revealing to the world that she’s just as bald “down there” as she is on her freshly shaved noggin…

These days, the reigning queen of celebrity downward spirals has to be Lindsay Lohan, and it’s she (once famously dubbed “Fire-Crotch” by former friend and fellow train wreck Paris Hilton) who lends her name to this week’s episode of Two Guys Watching Porn. In this episode, first broadcast on 03/04/13, my co-host Rob and I examine our fascination with the out of control Ms. Lohan, while discussing the endless list of other celebrity women we would happily make sweet love to if the Universe was suddenly turned inside out and upside down and such things actually became possible. Along the way we play a half ass version of “Truth or Dare”, and debut a special new rendition of the Two Guys Watching Porn theme song (available for free download on Soundcloud at: https://soundcloud.com/screaming-mime-theater/two-guys-watching-porn-1). Discussed in this episode is the film “Inferno”, a Linda Lovelace bio-pic that was originally slated to star Lindsay Lohan (and which the above photos were intended to advertise) that is currently, tentatively, in production (with Ms. Lohan replaced by Malin Akerman). Info on this production can be veiwed here: http://youtu.be/dioa1BguGN0.

I would also like to take this opportunity to thank any and all of our listeners on Spreaker for taking the time to check out our show. We just recently reached 1,500 plays (not much in the grand scheme of things, but a tremendous thrill for me personally!). Like two morons eating worms while waiting for the short bus, we welcome any attention we can get!

As aficionados of B-Movies and exploitation classics, we here at Murdered by ROBOTSare always daydreaming about throwing our own hats into the low-budget movie making ring. Our lifelong dream is to create our own cinematic atrocities, and this ambition is often reflected in our other creative outlets, especially our photography. While we’re always happy to lens a nubile young beauty in a bikini, deep down we yearn to set aside the clichés of our art form in favor of paying homage to the midnight movies we love above all else.

The above shots feature Vigilante Vixxxen ,a modern-day Amazon whose statuesque form and heavenly curves were surely molded by the gods themselves, in an effort to create the perfect woman! The definition of beauty and poise, Ms. Vixxxen is also a woman after our own hearts, happily wielding machetes and simulating decapitating band mate Rob for the sake of our mad vision! She even brought her own guns! Now, I don’t know what type of rifle this is (see below), but I guarantee that it’s more than any girl could ever ask for to teach would-be bad guys a serious lesson:

Not only is she an amazing model, but a wonderful sport, agreeing to star in the Murdered by ROBOTS video “Down to the Slaughter”.

Meet Mandy Taylor, fetish model extraordinaire and friend of the Screaming Mime Theater. Stunningly beautiful as a blonde or with jet black tresses, Mandy impresses with every pose she strikes, her ample bosom and callipygian frame burning itself into the retinas of all who behold her. Murdered by ROBOTSare such big fans that we’ve recorded an original song in her honor, and included it on our self-titled debut album (available for free digital download on Soundcloud at https://soundcloud.com/#screaming-mime-theater/sets/tijuana-bible-college).

This is Oliver (looking studly in this recent photo taken at the Junkyard Rehearsal Studio) an aspiring slasher-movie star trying desperately to get his foot in that serial killer door. A long time friend and mascot of sorts of the Screaming Mime Theater, Oliver patiently awaits the day he can eviscerate nubile young teens on the silver screen, all while honing his acting chops in zero-budget videos. We here at Murdered by ROBOTS would like to tip our hats off to this potential (if improbable) future king of B-movie carnage.